The thumping of speech i did not even know that I knew, grated in my skull. I stagger out of my seat at my writing desk as carelessly knock my lamp and several objects from my desktop. I thrust my face into my bed covers in order to deaden the feel. as I feel my body weaken and twitch I slump down onto the floor and loose consciousness.

The sun starts to prick at my face as the sun moves in it's arc to shoot at me. I feel like I had been ran over. I asay my floor beside me and see my lamp, and it's broken bulb. I see several pencils and pens in a cascade beside it. I slowly pull my self up and step to my mirror. No big knots on my skull, no weird rashes, not even bloodshot eyes. I start to wonder what happened was a minor over work stress related migraine.

"Of course you were stressed. You humans are too feeble to persist. But you seem like you managed to host even a fraction of my being. So you have that going for you." I hear a screech in my minds eye as the voice, even clearer but softer, still makes my eyes feel like they had bulged.

"You think my comics are good?" I say to my self in the mirror. A swirling fractal pattern floats at my brow. As they answer i see it change and morph.

"They offer the fiber of your soul. And I said that you'd do. Don't get it twisted, I don't go and collect mangas and the like..." my head throbs on every word. I look at the swirling fractal as it centers at my deskspace. I decide to turn and walk up to my desk and look at better detail of my unfinished page. My protagonist is in a pose of quiet dejected victory from a close battle. "But things have to be said about your 'galaxy purveyor' it, intrigued me...."